Page 57 of Demons Dig Donuts

So, this was bad.

Really bad.

Dill tilted his head and beamed excitedly. “Grow?”

“No! No growing!” Indy hissed as he quickly pushed himself in front of Mr. Heiss. “Hey, babe. Hi. So, pain is your thing?”

Misingno swirled his tongue around the popsicle and winked, his features shifting slowly back. “Amongst many others.”

“Here. Check it. Twenty-fourth birthday. I got wasted, thought a printer in my friend’s office was a toilet, shit all over it. You wanna talk about pain? Try waking up the next morning and trying to lie your way through shitting on a printer and blaming it on the dog.”

Misingno stared. “Did it work?”

“Fuck no! And I had to apologize to the dog. In writing. To a dog. Another horrible memory I will include for free. Absolute horror show.” Indy held up two fingers. “You get both memories, all that yummy angst, and you hand over that sap.”

Misingno pursed his lips. “Doesn’t seem so enticing.” He let out a small giggle. “Okay, but I am very curious about the apology…”

“It was handwritten. On stationery.”

“Oh! What kind?”

“Just trust me when I say it’s a pain I would kill to make go away.” Indy held out his hand. “We have a deal?”

Misingno shrugged. “I suppose.”

Indy grabbed Misingno’s hand. “We have a deal.”

There was a faint tickle in the back of Indy’s brain as the memory was lifted away, and then there was pressure in his back pocket as an item was deposited there. It was done. It was over.

Right?

Misingno smacked his lips. “Mmm, not bad. Ha! With penises? And his grandmother found it? I lied. This is great!” He turned back around to head inside his pinecone house. He gave Nyp a little pat on the head as he strolled by. “Nighty night now.” His door shut, and the magical beach world poofed away.

They were standing back inside the magic shop, and the doorway was gone.

“There!” Nyp clapped his hands. “See? Everything worked out great. Isn’t it nice to have friends? Such wonderful, thoughtful friends? And now since I helped you, maybe you could—”

“Fuck off and die, or fuck off at least,” Mr. Heiss growled. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Mr. Heiss and Indy were in the limo in a blink, but they were seated beside each other on the back seat this time.

Jesus fuck, Indy was going to have brain damage from the teleporting shit.

Indy quickly checked his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of red fluid. He hoped that was the sap, but he would honestly have no idea until Gammy examined it. He opened his mouth to ask about the bag of other ingredients, but then it appeared next to him. He sighed in relief and hugged the bag tight. “Going back to your place, right?”

“Yes.” Mr. Heiss made a face. “And now that we have your… caboose juice ingredients? What else do you require?”

“I need a strong drink, a big towel, and some loving cuddles.”

“You can have two of those.”

“Yeah, fine. I can deal with the mess without the towel, but your rug is about to be fucked.”

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Mr. Heiss had the limo drive them back to his home as opposed to teleporting, so maybe he wasn’t the only one concerned for Indy’s potential brain damage.